


Therapy Dog

by WolfMadeFromAsh



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, Derek is a therapy dog, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, Teen Wolf, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:27:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfMadeFromAsh/pseuds/WolfMadeFromAsh
Summary: The Nogitsune may be gone, but the memories of what he's done is still very much here. Stiles is struggling to keep himself from going over the edge, unable to sleep or function properly. Panic attacks are a regular thing and all he's doing is worrying his dad. Opening up and talking could help, probably would help. He know this. But his best friends are still getting over a devastating loss, his dad is stress and exhausted from extra hours at work, and maybe Stiles feels like he deserves to suffer a little.Except, there's a certain wolf who thinks other wise.A wolf who, as it turns out, makes an exceptional therapy dog.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was the second Sterek fic idea I had come up with after having a nightly need for some full shift Derek were he's, as the title says, a therapy dog. This is my first story on here, I'll maybe post the other soon...We'll see how this goes.

Chapter 1

“If you want my help, you’ll have to tell me something, Stiles. Coming here and telling me you can’t sleep? Well you could simply tell this to your regular practitioner and they would provide you with a prescription to help with that. If you’re coming to _me_ , then I assume there is a more _specific_ reason for your insomnia, one that a normal doctor would be unable to help with. For me to aid you in any way, I need to get a sense of the root of the problem to begin to address it in the best possible way.”

Stiles stared at Deaton with narrowed eyes. The Druid simple stares back, unphased by the glare set on him, and waits.

Stiles huffs out a sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Every night is the same; I wake up before I’ve really even closed my eyes it seems. Sure, I know that what happened wasn’t my fault…But,” Stiles pauses, his tired eyes raising to meet Deaton’s. “Do you know what it feels like to kill 20 people in under 10 minutes? What it feels like to actually absorb that feeling of panic and pain as someone literally _sees_ their death coming?”

Deaton shakes his head. “You were conscious during the Nogitsune’s attack on the hospital.” He says, not as a question but as a fact he’s come to find true. Stiles averts his eyes, nodding slowly. “Stiles, I see the guilt you’re facing but you were _not_ responsible for the actions of that chaos demon. It’s been months, I’m glad that you’ve finally found that you can open up to-”

“I’m not trying to open up here, Doc. I’m looking for some magical solution you can provide me with so I can fucking sleep for more than an hour and a half at a clip.”

Deaton sighs. “Anything that I _might_ be able to come up with will only be _temporary_ solution, Stiles. You have to face this, talk to someone. No one can truly understand what you’re feeling but you have people in your life who are here for you. Actually,” Deaton pauses a moment, considering his thought before continuing. “Yes, that could work. There may be someone you might consider opening up to; someone who also feels an incredible weight of guilt on their shoulders that doesn’t necessarily belong there.”

Stiles scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, who might that be?”

“Derek.” The vet tells him simply. Stiles stares at the man across from him, mouth open in disbelief. “He blames himself for the death of his family, even Laura I would guess. That guilt is not his to carry.”

“But Derek didn’t-”

“And neither did you, Stiles. You see where I’m going with this?” Stiles looks away, his expression closed off. “Please, think about it Stiles. In the meantime, I’ll gather a few things for you but I’ll need a day or two and I can’t promise that the remedy will even help if the night terrors are as bad as you’re implying. It’ll be a natural supplement that should help close off your unconscious mind from the dark thoughts and memories.” Stiles nods and leaves without another word.

He drives to the grocery store with a frown on his face; his and Derek’s situations are vastly different. Derek was taken advantage of at a young age by someone he was, at the time, in love with while Stiles had his body and mind processed and made to do unforgiveable things. He’d killed innocent people for his own self gain, just to exist and thrive in a world of chaos and fear; he was forced to take the backseat in his own mind while everything around him was destroyed, helpless to stop it.

He thought about this as he walked through the store, grumbling and mumbling to himself as he browses the aisles.

“Talk to _Derek_?” He says to himself, putting vegetables for a salad into his basket. “How is talking to _Derek_ going to help me? How do you even _talk_ to Derek? Would Derek even talk back?” He asks out loud, oblivious to anyone around him. “Would Derek talk to _me_ or _let_ me talk?”

“Stiles?” Someone says from behind him, grabbing his attention.

Stiles whirls around, his mouth dropping open. “Derek!” He says almost too loudly. “Hey! Hi, uhm, what’s going on? How’s it going?” Derek raises an eyebrow, smirking at Stiles as he stammers. “Okay, cut me some slack and just tell me how long you’ve been in ear shot.”

Derek shrugs, reaching around Stiles to grab a couple cucumbers. “Not long. Heard you muttering to yourself from across the store, found you here saying my name. A _lot_.” Stiles smacks his hand to his forehead with a groan. “Why _were_ you talking to yourself about me?”

Stiles shakes his head, walking with Derek through the produce section toward the meat department. “No reason, really. Just something stupid, its nothing.” Stiles tells him. He catches sight of the girl he’d bumped into before running into Derek; dark wavy hair, bright eyed, big smile. Full of life. He feels a tremor in his hands and balls them into fist in an attempt to still them.

Derek stops, turning to look at Stiles with a serious face, his eyes sweeping over him as if assessing him for injury. “Are you sure?”

Stiles nods, his throat feeling dry like it’s closing up. “Of course.” He forces out. “Nothing, no big deal. I’ve got it handled. I’m the one that always figures everything out, right?” Stiles’ breathing begins to pick up, a prickling heat raising up to his cheeks.

“Stiles?” Derek steps forward, eyes darting over the boy’s face in concern. “Hey.” He drops his own basket, reaching out to grab Stiles’ arm to steady him as he begins to sway. “ _Stiles._ ”

“D-Derek.” Stiles stutters, the basket handle slipping from his grasp. “I can’t…I…” His eyes begin to sting, tears welling up with his rising heartbeat. He stumbles back, his eyes searching everywhere for the exit. Derek’s right there to catch him as his knees begin to shake. “Derek,” He gasps, clutching at the arm of the man’s jacket. “Derek, I can’t breathe.” Stiles forces the words out, his body starting to collapse.

“Stiles!” Derek held on to him, looking for the exit, pulling Stiles toward it with his arm around his waist. “Come on, I’ll get you outside. You’re okay, Stiles. I’ve got you.”

Derek half drags Stiles out of the store, getting him around the corner of the building out of the sight of any onlookers. He eases him to the ground, keeping a firm grip on his shoulders. “Stiles, you have to _breathe_! Come on. Close your eyes and concentrate on breathing, please.” Derek tries to coach Stiles but it was no use, he was sure to hyperventilate, Derek could hear the strain it was causing his lungs as he began wheezing. “Stiles! Come on! _Please_! I can’t do this for you, you’ve _got_ to help me out here.”

“I…I…c-can’t…h- _help_.” Stiles’ voice was barely a whisper.

“I…Stiles, I’m _trying_. I don’t know how...” Derek watched Stiles, feeling petrified that the boy would die in front of him. “Shit.” He stands up, shedding himself of his jacket before looking around to see if anyone is watch watching. He rolls his shoulders and closes his eyes, grunting as the familiar pain of bones realigning themselves moves throughout his body. In seconds, Derek is standing on four legs in a pile of clothes he’d likely leave behind. He wastes no time pressing into Stiles’ side, whimpering to the boy as he tucks his nose in the crock of his neck. Stiles leans into the touch, gasping a second later as he gains some control over his lungs. Derek pushes in closer, half in Stiles’ lap with his head on his shoulder, whimpering again. Stiles inhales sharply, his arms coming around the black wolf in his lap. He takes a shaky breath again, squeezing Derek. The wolf nuzzles against his neck, pulling Stiles in with the force of his head. Another breath, steadier this time. Stiles’ hands are balled up, fisted in Derek’s thick black coat, letting out uneven breathes until he’s breathing more easily. Derek huffs in relief, easing back as Stiles’ hold loosens.

Stiles sniffs, wiping his face. Derek whines, pressing his cold nose to the side of his face. Stiles laughs weakly, patting the wolf’s side. “I’m okay. Now.” He says, his voice raspy. “Thanks. You’re like a therapy dog.” Derek groans, starting to move away but stopping when Stiles’ hand touches his side. “Seriously Derek. I know…just…Thank you.”

Derek stares at him for a moment before leaning forward to bump his head to Stiles’ forehead. Stiles smiles, scratching behind his ear before getting to his feet, leaning against the wolf for support while his legs still feel weak. Derek leans back against him, a solid form to keep him standing upright until he’s ready to move forward.

Stiles smiles down at him. “Thanks again, man.” He looks around, finding Derek’s leather jacket on the ground next to his discarded clothes. He picks up the gray Henley, ripped and stretched out. “Sorry dude, but your shirt’s a goner. Hm.” Stiles picks up his jeans, finding them in similar shape as the shirt. “Pants too.” Derek walks up to his jacket, nudging it with his nose. Stiles bends down to pick it up. “Looks like we know where your priorities are, huh? Keep the jacket safe, Stiles can suffer another minute.” Derek lets out a low growl. “Kidding. You know you can’t just wear this dude. Sort of need pants. I mean, that’s sort of kinky and its cool if you’re into that but it’s kind of frowned upon to walk around dangling everywhere, you know? There are kids in this town, Derek.” Derek groans, trotting away. “Hey, don’t get so offended.”

Stiles follows Derek back through the parking lot, seeing him approach his Jeep. “Um,” Stiles starts, looking at his still trembling hands. “Hey, Der.” The wolf sits next to the Jeep, looking at Stiles who holds out his shaking hands to him. “I’m not supposed to drive so soon after…a, uhm…after a…panic attack. That’s, that’s what that was.” Stiles tells him, looking away and letting his hands fall to his sides. Derek stretched his neck out, touching his nose to Stiles’ hand. The boy runs a hand over Derek’s head, carding his fingers through his fur; the motion soothes the after effect of the panic attack, settling him a little more. “You’re really awesome as a wolf, you know?” Derek huffs, Stiles taking that as his way of rolling his eyes. “Uh…Think you’d want to walk home with me? You don’t have to, it’s okay…but-”

Derek gets up and starts walking off to the edge of the lot, toward the direction of Stiles’ house. He pauses at the sidewalk, looking back as Stiles, his eyes flashing blue and making a noise close to a bark. Stiles smirks and rolls his eyes, jogging up to him. “Thanks…again.”

\-----

Stiles stays quiet for a little while as they walk, the sounds of crickets and Derek’s quiet panting filling the silence. He has his hands in his pocket and the leather jacket draped through one of his arms, strain the muscles from the consistent extra weight. A chilly breeze sweeps through the air and Stiles finds himself tugging on the jacket to fight off the cool night air. Derek looks over at him curiously.

“Yes, I’m wearing your jacket. My arm was getting tired and I’m cold.” Derek lets out a soft groan, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m not the one cover in a thick coat of warm fur here.”

Stiles sees his dad’s cruiser in the driveway as they approach the house. “Shit, I thought he’d still be at work. Okay, um, just run up to my room and I’ll run interference or something, okay? He’s probably on the couch asleep or in his office. Just try to be quiet, I’m not sure how I’d explain a giant wolf coming into the house. The poor man’s just getting his head wrapped around all of this.”

Derek huffs, staying tight to Stiles’ side as they enter the house, breaking off and quickly padding up the stairs as Stiles slips into the living room where he can hear his dad watching MASH reruns.

The older man turns his head, giving his son a tired smile. It’s well past when he should have gone to bed after having just worked another double shift, especially since he was lucky enough to cut out early but lately he’d taken to waiting up for Stiles. An act that only served in feeding the boy’s guilt.

“Hey son.” He greets.

Stiles gives him a smile, nodding his head. “Hey, pops. Surprised to see you still up.”

Noah laughs lightly. “No, you’re not.”

“Dad, you don’t have to wait up for me, I’m fine. I swear.”

Noah glances at his son, looking down to his empty hands with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah? Where are the groceries you were picking up?” He asks gently. “You texted me three hours ago, said you were picking up a few things.”

 _Three hours?!_ Stiles thinks, he hadn’t realized how long it’d been. He was only at the vets for 15 minutes; the grocery run was supposed to be quick. 30 minutes tops; in and out and home. But there was that kid running around with a fake samurai sword then those twins looking at some toy. And there was that girl with the long brown hair that brushed against him, smiling sweetly and apologizing softly. She looked so much like Allison. He tried to distract himself, complaining out loud and mumbling to himself. Before he knew it, Derek was there hauling him outside. It didn’t feel _that_ long. But he does tend to lose track when it gets bad like that.

Stiles shifts his weight back and forth between his feet. “I…didn’t realize how long it’d been.” He tells his father slowly.

Noah turns in his seat, his eyes softening into a sad expression. “Stiles, you _can_ talk to me you know. I’m here.”

“I know.” He mumbles.

“I hate seeing you like this kid.” Stiles only shrugs, his gaze falling to the floor. “Have you talked to Scott?”

“Sure.”

“No, I mean really _talked_ to him. He’s your best friend, you’ve always been able to go to him about anything.”

“Dad, I-”

“You need to let us in kid. _Please_.”

Stiles shakes his head. “I…I can’t. Not yet.”

“Stiles-” Noah starts, sounding like he’s at a loss for his son and his well-being.

“But I will. I think. But…” Stiles shakes his head again. “It’s too…I just can’t right now.” He can feel his head rate speeding up. He tries to take slow, calming breathes, hoping his dad can’t see he’s on the edge of his second attack of the night, which is actually progress.

Small victories.

Stiles is lucky tonight though, since his dad takes no notice of the growing tension in his shoulders. The bright side of the double shifts, Stiles can squeak by on things like this. The man just nods slowly, rubbing at his tired eyes with a sigh. “Okay. Alright, but when you’re ready I’m here. I’m always here for you.”

“I know. I’m, uhm, I’m going to head to bed. G’night.”

“Night, son.”

Stiles heads up to his room as quickly as he can without looking like he’s bolting. He gets into his room and practically slams the door shut, sliding to the floor with his face buried in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking short shaky breaths.

“Not again, not again. Fuck!” Stiles bangs his head back against his door with a frustrated growl. The press of a cold nose against his cheek accompanied by a soft whine startles Stiles. “Derek.” He chokes out, vision blurring with tears for a second time. “It’s h-happening again.”

Derek moves in closer, pressing his head into Stiles’ shoulder with a soft whine. Stiles wraps his arms around the wolfs form, clutching him tightly. He drapes his head over his shoulder, providing comfort back as best he can with his version of a hug.

The panic attack dissipates much quicker than the one at the store, soon Stiles is sitting back with his legs stretched out in front of him; Derek’s lying beside him with his head on his knee as he cards his fingers through his fur in lazy, soothing strokes.

“Thanks.” Stiles says quietly, exhaustion laced in his tone. “Again.” He sighs, looking down at Derek’s wolf form. “I think I need to talk to someone.” He says reluctantly, seeing how Deaton could have _maybe_ been right; there was no way that keeping his emotions and fears in was healthy, all it had done so far was keep him awake and throw him into panic attacks. Derek lifts his head to look at Stiles. “Dad worries too much and is spreading himself so thin with work right now. Scott lost Allison, he’s still dealing with that.” Stiles’ hand tightened in the black fur beneath his hand. “Lydia lost her best friend. How am I supposed to dump my shit on them? Like they don’t have their own things to work through.”

Derek huffs, tilting his head. “What? Talk to you? You’ve got your own shit too, Derek. I know you do. I…I can’t lay this on you. Beside, are where even at that open ‘sharing is caring’ stage in our friendship?” The wolf sits up with a low groan. “Look, whatever…whatever this is, I don’t know what to call it other than therapy dog training or something. It was a fluke, probably. And either way, I’m just not…ugh, no! I’m not doing this!” Stiles lifts himself from the ground, going to his dresser and pulling out a pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, tossing them on the bed as he grabs clothes for himself. “Those should fit if you want to shift back. I’d say you can stay, but you. Dad. Wolf. Not a conversation I want to get into, plus I’m sure you have better things to do than babysit me.” He adds with more bitterness in his tone than he’d intended. “I’ll just go to the bathroom, be back in a minute.”

Stiles grabs a pair of plaid sleep pants and heads out the door to the bathroom to ready himself for bed. Derek tracks his movements with sagging ears and sad eyes. While the boy is down the hall, the wolf groans and whimpers softly as his bones and muscles reform themselves back to his two-legged form. Derek is standing in the middle of Stiles’ room, pulling the sweatshirt on over his head as he reenters, closing the door softly behind him.

Stiles is adamite about keeping his eyes from Derek, embarrassment creeping into his gut at the reminder of taking so much comfort in Derek as a wolf. It was easy though, but now? Stiles is half mortified.

“I can bring you to your Jeep in the morning or when every you want to get it.” Derek offers, hoping the disappoint of his impending departure isn’t evident in the offer, picking his jacket from the bed where Stiles had tossed it before leaving the room. He nods in response, shuffling around Derek to get to his bed. “I’ll go…I guess.” He says reluctant to do so, knowing that Stiles needs… _something_. What? He’s not entirely sure, but something about leaving him right not just feels wrong. He should stay. He _wants_ to stay. But Stiles, Stiles doesn’t want him.

To stay.

“Night.” Stiles climbs into bed grabbing a book from his nightstand.

“I…” Stiles glances at Derek for a second, giving him a questioning look. “I can…stay.” He says slowly. “If you want.” He looks away, casting his gaze towards the foot of the bed. He sounds like a fool. Desperate even, he knows this. But…it’s _Stiles_. And Stiles had become more than that annoy spaz to him a long time ago. Now he was…everything.

But Derek is still…nothing.

 Stiles blinks up at him, mouth hanging open slightly in surprise. “Y-you don’t…it’s fine, I’m okay. You don’t have to.”

“Stiles.”

“What?”

“Take a breath. Don’t tell me you’re fine, you can be honest with me.” Derek knew was it was like to have such soul crushing guilt looming over you day after day and the way you feel like you’re about to snap the next time someone tells you ‘it’s not your fault’. He knew, he pushed everyone away, shut everyone out. Laura tried to help, but he ran; he was a coward.

Stiles wasn’t a coward though. He didn’t back off Derek, he forced himself into his life in a way that made it evident that there was no pushing him away. Attaching himself to every aspect until one day, Derek could look at the milk in the fridge and not think of Stiles. Stiles isn’t a coward, he won’t keep running.

“Do you want me to stay?” Laura has asked him the same question once, before leaving for Beacon Hills. No one knows that though. Derek wanted her to stay, wanted to tell her yes. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t have the strength to say the words. To _ask_ for help, for comfort. He didn’t think he deserved it; part of him still doesn’t.

He’s working on that.

But Stiles does. Stiles deserves everything. Whatever he wants out of life he deserves it. What happened to him...that wasn’t a choice. He wasn’t naïve enough to let himself be lured in by some beautiful face. Wasn’t stupid enough to shut his sister out and let her walk out the door.

He wished he asked her to stay.

“I…n-…I’m fine.” He tells him. “I’m fine.” He repeats. But, Derek realizes, that’s not a no.

He says he’s fine but Derek can hear what he means. He’s said that too. He told Laura that he was fine when he meant ‘I’m suffocating’. Told her she should go when he wanted to say ‘I can’t do this alone’. He knew the real meaning behind ‘I’m fine’.

“Stiles.” Derek crouches down, elbows leaning on the bed. “Do you want me to stay?”

Stiles closes his eyes, laying his head back with a long-frustrated sigh. “I don’t want to be alone.” He whispers. “But you really don’t have to stay, you’ve done so much already. Really. I’m…I’ll _be_ fine. So-”

“Stiles, straight answers. Yes. Or no.” Derek is firm with his words but his tone is gentle.

If he says no, that’s fine. This isn’t about what Derek needs or wants, which is to crawl up beside the boy and hold him tight against his chest and keep all the nightmares that threaten him away. To have his own pain soothed by the steady beating of another heart pressed against his chest.

But it’s not about him though. It’s about Stiles.

So, if he really wants him to leave, he will. He can drag himself out the window and lurk in the shadows like he’s been doing for the last…well, he doesn’t want to admit how long he’s been doing _that_. It’s embarrassing. If he were a normal functioning person he would have already brought this…development to Stiles’ attention. But, Derek’s got a self-destructive ‘I don’t deserve the things I want’ streak.

He’s working on that too.

Really…he is.

When Stiles meets his eyes, pausing briefly before he nods, Derek is relieved. “Okay.” He tells him, reaching across him to grab a pillow off the bed. He turns around, laying back on the floor with the pillow under his head and closing his eyes; it doesn’t escape him how he feels a contentment wash over him at the scent of Stiles filling his nose. “You better not talk in your sleep.” He mutters.

Stiles lets a smile creep across his face, glancing down at Derek for a moment, warmth spreading through his body. “I probably do.” He says with a shrug.

\-----

_Its dark, cold. Hard to breath. He can’t see anything._

_There’s something in the distance, but somehow it **feels** like it’s right there. Stiles can almost **taste** the fear and panic; a stale rotten taste that burns the back of his throat. His hands feel tacky, like they’re coated with something thick._

_The smell of copper surrounds him._

_Blood. He realizes. It’s blood._

_The darkness fades away at the realization and he can see finally. But he wishes he couldn’t; never has he longed to be consumed by darkness more than he does right now._

_His hands are covered in thick, red blood; a mass of bodies pooled around him._

_“No.” He gasps, choking back a sob._

_Something coughs in front of him. He looks down to find he’s kneeling with a mop of dark brown curls in his lap. His eyes go wide and he shaking his head, looking everywhere to see where the bleeding is coming from and how he can stop it._

_“S-Stiles.” A voice croaks weakly._

_“No. No, no, no, no, no!” Stiles panics._

_Allison’s brown eyes gaze up at him, blood dripping from her mouth. Her hand clutching at her stomach as an open wound gushes with the slow beating of her heart. Stiles pales farther seeing, in his own hand, a long sword. He throws it angerly to the side._

_“Allison! Allison! No! I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t…this wasn’t supposed to happen! Help!” He yells desperately. “Someone please, help!” He choked on his own sobs as Allison’s life fades before him. “I should have stopped it! What couldn’t I stop it!? I’m so sorry.”_

_“It’s okay.” Stiles’ eyes snap open and he jerks back at the sudden voice change._

_“No.” He whispers. “Derek? How? No! This isn’t what happened!” Derek smiles weakly up at him, bringing a shaking hand to his cheek. “Shouldn’t you be healing?! Why aren’t you healing!?” Stiles demands in a panic, clutching at Derek’s tattered and bloody shirt._

_“Stiles, it’s okay. I promise, this is okay. **You’ll** be okay. Just tell me you’ll be okay.” Stiles shakes his head, tears rolling down his face. “Please, Stiles. Promise me.”_

_Somehow, this hurts so much more than anything else he’s ever felt; it’s like he’s being ripped in half. “I won’t. You can’t. I can’t lose you too. Derek… **please.** ” It physically **hurts** to see Derek like this, to feel the strength he’s using just to keep his hand on Stiles’ cheek. “Derek.” He pleads quietly. “Don’t leave me, you said you’d stay. Please stay.”_

_“I’m sorry Stiles.” Derek’s hand slips from Stiles’ face. “I lo-” Derek’s head rolls to the side, his eyes glazing over._

_“Derek? No. No! Derek!? No!” Stiles clutches at the man lying dead in his lap, burring his face in his chest as he openly sobs. “Derek, please! You said you’d stay! You said you’d stay.”_

_“You’ve done it again, Stiles. Haven’t you?” A familiar voice taunts him._

_Stiles jerks his head up glaring in the direction of the voice, his heart jumping into his throat when his eyes land on **him**. A man wearing a worn, leather bomber jacket with his face wrapped and covered with gauze._

_“I didn’t-” Stiles chokes on a breath. “No.” He looks around, looking at his right hand as he shakes. Six. There are six fingers there, on one hand. “This isn’t real. This didn’t happen.” Despite this, Stiles hugs Derek’s body closer to him. Because it still **feels** real enough._

_“But Allison’s death was.” Stiles whips his head to his left to see Scott standing there with glowing eyes. “That wasn’t a dream, Stiles. That really happened.”_

_“I know.” He responds brokenly. “I know, I’m sorry!”_

_“You killed her.” Lydia steps from behind Scott. “You gave into that **thing** , Stiles. You let him **in**! And Allison is dead. Looks like you’ve killed Derek now too.”_

_“I…I…no…I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…I don’t know what happened.”_

_“Misery follows you, Stiles. You made everything so easy.” Void drawls, moving like early morning fog across a field as he comes closer. “Death follows you, you are **cursed** by it. Even your own **mother** is dead. You can’t stop this.” Void kneels in front of Stiles, a sickening grin on his bandaged face. Stiles pulls Derek’s body closer to him, pulling him away from that **thing**. “He’ll die, Stiles. You won’t be able to stop it. You’ll look down and he’ll be gone. This man you **love**.” Stiles stares into unseen eyes in shock. “Yes,” He laughs coldly. “I **know** about your crush. He’ll die before you tell him. He’ll die never knowing someone loves him.”_

_Fresh tears trail down Stiles’ face, he looks back to find Derek’s body has vanished. His heart sinks, his chest filling with panic as he looks all around him searching for Derek. Void laughs, a sickly wet sound, as he reached out for Stiles. And he just feels numb; no fear. No anything_

_A black mass flashes in the corner of Stiles’ eye, jumping at Void and pinning him to the ground with a monstrous snarl. The wolf glances quickly at Stiles, a brief assessment to ensure he’s been left unharmed. It turns its attention back to the demon beneath its paws and snaps at it with razor sharp teeth._

_“How!” Void hisses in disbelief._

_Stiles’ mouth slowly curls up. “He said he’d stay.” He said simply. “Derek’s never lied to me before.”_

_The wolf almost grins down at its pray before launching forward at its neck, ripping the demons throat out._

_With his teeth._

\-----

Stiles wakes with a start, his breathing heavy but not erratic. His heart beating fast but not pounding through his chest. And there’s sun light coming in through his window. He closes his eyes, wiping a hand across his face.

He moved to push himself up to find he’s suddenly either become very heavy or lost all his upper body strength. He opens his eyes, looking down to see a mass of black fur laying across his stomach.

Derek. Black fur, long nose, Derek. Draped over his chest, paws crossed with his snout pressed against them.

Stiles smiles down at the sleeping wolf, looking more than content. Unable to stop himself, he reaches down petting Derek in a long stroke from his head all the way down his back. Derek peaks at him with one open eye making Stiles roll his brown pair.

“You were already awake before I even opened my eyes, weren’t you?” Derek lift his head, stretching with a groaning yawn. “Oof, god you’re heavy.” Stiles weakly shoves at Derek, who groans and stretched again in response, turning onto his side to almost cover the boy’s body. Stiles laughs, turning his head to avoid a mouth full of fur. “Stop it, you’re crushing me!” Derek groans again, rolling onto his back and wiggling back and forth while kicking his legs in the air. “Obnoxious wolf! God! Who knew wolfy Derek is like a playful puppy in the early hours.” Derek thrashes around some more before rolling back to his stomach to lay against Stiles’ side, looking very pleased with himself.

Stiles smiles at him, shaking his head. “Okay, mission accomplished. I feel better. Happy?” Derek’s tail thumps a couple time against the bed, his tongue hanging from his open mouth. “Yeah,” Stiles scoffs. “You look very pleased with yourself.” He reaches out, ruffling the fur on Derek’s head. “Thanks again, for everything. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night. I…I started to have a nightmare I think.” Derek closes his mouth, staring at Stiles intently as he listens. “I remember the usual, you know? Blood, panic, death everywhere. Allison. That _thing_.” Stiles keeps on petting Derek as he speaks, pushing himself forward and letting someone in. Letting _Derek_ in. “Scott and Lydia are always there too, blaming me.” Derek whimpers, resting his head on Stiles’ thigh. “I know they don’t _actually_ blame me, no one does; except me. Anyway, in the dreams it’s not the Oni who kill her…it’s me with the sword. But at some point, it wasn’t Allison in my lap.”

Stiles forces his eyes to meet Derek’s. “It was you. You were there, dying and I didn’t know what happened but I _knew_ it was all my fault.” Derek whines at Stiles’ rising distress, inching closer so his nose almost touches his chest. “It…Derek it _hurt_. Like it was physically painful, you dying. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this when you can’t properly respond. I don’t know what that even means.” He tells the wolf with a shake of his head, his hand pressed into the wolfs side. “Then you were gone, and all I could think was that you said you would stay. I…I just wanted you to stay. The thing…it was reaching for me and I was going to let it take me. I knew I was. You disappeared and he was going to take me and I just didn’t care; I _couldn’t_ care. But then,” Stiles smiles softly, Derek raised his head cocking it to the side. “You came back. Like this and you attacked it. Guess what you did?” Stiles asks, hardly able to hide his grin. “You literally ripped its throat out with your teeth.”

He laughs when Derek’s tail thumps enthusiastically and he makes a quite ‘woof’ sound. “It was sort of awesome. And I think…I think you probably climbed up here somewhere just before that, probably at the peak of the worst of it. It was like my subconscious knew that out here, someone was trying to help me, so it gave me the help in the dream too.” Stiles is quiet for a moment, playing with the fur between Derek’s paws. “I don’t know why, but you help.” Stiles shrugs, pulling his hand away, feeling self-conscious now. “Sorry, that was…” Derek nudges his nose under Stiles’ hand, getting his to pet him again.

“You’re really okay with this, aren’t you?” Derek leans into Stiles’ touch. “Cool, I feel less embarrassed now.” Derek emits a soft growl, Stiles smirks down at him. “Sorry for feeling self-conscious about all this. You’re a wolf, laying in my bed, wanting and liking me scratching behind your ear. And you’re still… _Derek._ So…it’s weird, right? Like it should be weird.”

Derek slinks off the bed, reaching to grab the discarded, borrowed, clothes in his mouth. He nudges the door open with his nose, peering out into the hall for a moment before disappearing. A couple minutes later, Derek returns to the room on two legs. He sits himself on the edge of the bed, folding one leg under himself to face Stiles.

Stiles feels color raising in his cheeks, staring at the man who was just a wolf. He’s pulled back into the dream for a moment, to what Void hissed to him.

_“This man you love…He’ll die before you tell him.”_

Stiles closes his eyes, rubbing them with the heel of his hand.

“Stiles?”

_“He’ll die never knowing someone loves him.”_

Stiles jerks back at the feeling of a pair of hands grasping his shoulders. His eyes pop open and land on the concerned look stretched across Derek’s face. He rubs a gentle hand up and down the boys arm, trying to calm him.

“You’re okay, Stiles. You’re here, you’re with me.” His tone is soothing and gentle, relaxing Stiles as he blows out a long breath, pushing his hands through his hair. “Come back to me Stiles.” Derek whispers.

Stiles nods slowly. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, just…still that dream, seeing you… like that and then in front of me now…sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for things you can’t control, Stiles.” The boy nods, trying to give Derek a weak smile, still unable to meet his gaze directly. “You know,” Derek starts, pulling away from Stiles slowly. “I don’t understand why you think me on all fours covered in fur is easier to deal with than me like this; either way it’s still me.”

Stiles shrugs. “Maybe I forget for a minute, maybe because you can’t respond verbally? I don’t know, it’s just…easier somehow.”

“You know what I think?” Stiles shakes his head. “I think you still have it in your head that you’re not pack, that you’re not _family_. This is what we do, Stiles; what _pack_ and _family_ does. We’re there for each other, no judgements. So, to answer your question from before; no, it’s not weird. Not for me. The wolf _or_ the human. Whatever form, it’s not weird.”

Derek pick himself up from the bed, walking to the window. He looks back to Stiles before opening the window. “Call me is you need anything.”

“You’re not going to tell me to open up and let someone in, are you? That I need to talk to someone?”

Derek shakes his head. “You already know you do, and I know it’s not as simple as your dad is making it out to be. You’ll do it if and _when_ you’re ready. You opened up about that dream with me.” Derek shrugs. “I’d say that’s something. So, just…call.”

“If I need _anything_?” Stiles teases with a sly smile.

Derek smirks back at him. “If you need _anything_.” He slides the window open, climbing out onto the roof, turning back to Stiles. “Even if you just need your therapy dog.”

Derek smiles to himself as he leaps off the roof, rolling to the ground; Stiles’ soft chuckle ringing in his ears.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Most days, Stiles tries to hold his breath and just _run_ ; praying for the day to end quickly, avoid anything that could trigger a panic attack which of course meant _everything_. He’s thankful for the break in school, walking the halls and seeing the shadows of people who are gone because of him was almost impossible to handle. There was no avoiding anything when it was shoved in your face like that.

He tries not to think about Chris, hasn’t seen him or talked to him since. He hid from him until he knew he’d left town, unable to face that man who lost his daughter because of him. Scott’s not easy to be around either; he tries to act like everything is okay when he’s with Stiles, but they’ve been friends for long enough that Stiles knows when he’s faking.

Lydia tries actively to get Stiles out of the house, doing things to keep him busy even if its tagging along on a shopping trip. But, he mostly declines finding it just as difficult to be around her as anyone else. She seems be able to see the brighter side, accepting that though she lost her best friend she still has Stiles; she didn’t fail him even when she could feel his death right around the corner.

She’s an optimist. Who knew?

But, things have gotten easier. Stiles’ panic attacks are spaced farther apart, somedays he doesn’t get any at all and he’s been sleeping for longer stretches. He’s not well-rested exactly but the circles under his eyes have faded and the 4 hours he’s been averaging verses the hour and a half, or less, he was getting before is making a huge difference in his mood.

He’s got a big black therapy dog to thank for the nights he sleeps longer.

Derek’s come by a few times since the night at the grocery store, and Stiles still isn’t sure how he’s getting up on the roof in his fully shifted form. Seriously, is he just leaping really high or is he stripping and stashing his clothes somewhere and shifting once he’s on the roof? Is there a naked Derek Hale standing on his roof for any amount of time?

Not important.

What is, is that he’s been showing up every other night to check in and Stiles lets him stay. He’ll lay back in his bed, pat his side, and tells him to jump up. And it’s not weird, he’s actually surprised at how not weird it is.

It’s been nearly two weeks since the incident at the store with Derek and Stiles is finally feeling okay for the first time in months. He has plans to hang out with Scott, ones that _he_ made and he’s been hanging out in the living room with his dad more.

He feels lighter.

Derek’s, nestled against his side when he wakes up with his head on his paws. Stiles scratches his head with a wide smile. “Morning.” He says casually, shifting to sit up on the bed as he stretches.

Derek groans, rolling to his side and pinning one of Stiles’ legs under his weight. “Dude.” The boy laughs. “You’re gonna have to let me up. I’m, ah…I’m meeting up with Scott.” Derek sits up, ears perked and eyes on Stiles. “Yeah. I called him yesterday, asked if he wanted to hang out. He seemed…thrilled to even hear from me. Not like we don’t talk, but it’s usually him reaching out to me.” Derek’s tail wags, he nudges his head under his hand to get him to pet him. “Yeah, I guess I’m doing a lot better. I think this whole therapy dog thing is really working. I uhm…I sort of…I wanted to see how I do on my own…for a couple days.”

The wolf cocks his head to the side, his ears sagging slightly. “What? Come on, you know you’re doing your wolfy duty. Taking care of pack and all that, I just…I want to see if I’m really okay, you know? I like you hanging out here, I do, but I can’t let myself get dependent on you. That’s not really healthy, you know? I mean we can still hang out, if you want…I want to. And maybe not with just the wolf…Maybe. But if you don’t want to that’s totally cool.” Derek nips at Stiles’ fingers, wagging his tail again. “Cool.” The boy grins at the wolf again. “Okay, so I’ll stop by the loft or something sometime. Also, you should probably text me…Just to check in. I think I just need a little safety net, some contact to ease into this staying alone thing.”

_That doesn’t sound too desperate right? It’s normal for me to want to have that line of contact open after all this. It doesn’t sound weird or attached or like I have this clingy crush on him. Cause I definitely don’t. This is just, a thing._

Derek snorts, his head twitching and his tail thumbing on the bed three times. “Good. Okay, I really need to get up now. I have to go meet Scotty. Come on.” Stiles nudges Derek with his knee, making the wolf groan in protest and flop back onto his side. “Dude.” He whines. “Okay, fine. 10 more minutes, then you’re getting kicked out.” Stiles rests an arm around Derek’s neck, petting his size as he leans back.

\-----

Stiles ended up spending most of the day with Scott, grabbing lunch and playing video games even staying over a little later to watch a movie while both their parents worked the night shift. Stiles would get texts from Derek from time to time, which he’d respond to quickly. Though he tried to be quick as to not take his attention from his friend, the split focus did not go unnoticed by Scott.

Stiles’ attention was on the bright lit screen, a grin spread across his face while he tried, and failed, to hold back his light laughter.

Scott cocked an eyebrow at him, smiling softly. “What’s so funny?” He asked, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of the phone. “Who are you talking to?”

“Derek.” He said with a snicker. “Dude’s actually pretty funny.”

Scott scrunched his face. “Since when do you and Derek text?”

Stiles shrugs, rolling his eyes at the latest alert. “He doesn’t understand how _utterly_ _amazing_ Star Wars is. Do you believe that he’s never seen it either? How do I find you people? At least he’s _trying_ to watch it, unlike _some_ friends.

“I’m not into that future-space crap.”

Stiles gasps. “ ** _Heathen_**!” Stiles shouts, point a finger at Scott. “Do not speak such _blasphemy_ in my _presence_! Star Wars, is not crap! You take that _back_!”

“Oh my _god_!” Scott groans. “It’s just a movie!”

“It is an **_epic_**!”

The two boys stare at each other; Scott with an expression of disbelief and Stiles with narrowed eyes.

“Fine!” Scott tells him, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I give, I’ll watch it.”

“Lair. _But_ , you’re forgiven for you short comings. We can continue on with our friendship.”

Scott rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to Captain America. “So,” He says casually. “ _Derek_?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Stiles starts with a shrug. “He ah, he was at the store a could weeks ago and I…it didn’t work out so well. He got me outside, snapped me out of it, walked home with me.” Stiles pauses, smiling softly at the open message on his screen. “He’s been sort of letting me use him as a therapy dog.”

“He shifted for you! I’ve been begging him for _weeks_ to let me see! Is it awesome?!”

“Yeah. Dude, he’s _so_ cool. And big! Soft too, all black with like…this stripe down his back that’s extra dark and shiny. And a hand full of white hairs on his chest. Really cool. He’s been a big help. He knew it too, I think. Asked if I wanted him to stay after he got me home; slept on the floor.”

Scott nods with a fond smile, unable to do anything but smile at the warm tone Stiles’ voice took talking about the older man. “I can’t picture Derek in any kind of sleep over situation.”

“Right?! He’s been great though. I know he’s just checking in with me when he shows up but it doesn’t feel like that’s what he’s doing. Helps keep me out of my head a little too. He helps distract me.”

Scott throws Stiles a knowing look. “You’re into him.”

“ _What_?! No! That’s-no!” Stiles’ face heats up, color spreading across his face as he avoids his best friends stare. “You’re crazy.”

“Oh my God! You totally _are_! You have a _crush_ on Derek! Derek ‘rip-your-throat-out-with-my-teeth’ Hale!”

“Shut _up_!” Stiles grabs a throw pillow, swinging it at Scott’s laughing face. “I don’t!”

“Stiles.” Scott says, laughter fading away. “ _Dude_.”

“Fine! Yes, _okay_! Maybe I might have a tiny, little, _microscopic_ thing for Derek. But it’s purely a damsel in distress situation!” He adds defensively.

Scott shakes his head, smile still present on his face. “No, it’s not.”

Stiles throws his head back with a groan, covering his face with his hands. “No…It’s not. Dude…I might…I think I love him.”

“That’s _great_!” Scott tells him, patting him on the shoulder.

“No. Not great, Scotty.”

“Why not?”

“Because! He’s _Derek_ and I’m _Stiles_!” He explains as if the statement means everything.

Scott blinks at him. “And I’m Scott. I don’t see you’re point.”

“ _If_ Derek is even into dudes, he’s 1,000 times out of my league! I’m still playing tee ball while he’s an all-star in the _majors_!”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Stiles. Just ‘cause Lydia had her head so far up Jackson’s-”

“ _Watch_ what you say about Lydia.” Stiles warns. “She is a Goddess among men.”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. _My point is_ , you’re smart, funny, loyal, resourceful. Derek would be crazy to not see that. You should just tell him.”

“And _when_ I get the soul crushing rejection? Then what? We can’t keep going on as friends after that, it’ll be too weird. He won’t know how to be around me. I like where we’ve ended up, I like having him in my life. I don’t want to lose that, Scott.”

Scott thinks for a moment before shrugging. “ _If_ he rejects you, you come here. We’ll take care of that heartache, distract you until you’re ready to move forward.”

Stiles nods. “Okay.”

Scott mirrors his movement. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”

“Probably not, no. But good pep talk buddy. Truly one of your best. I actually feel a lot better.”

\-----

It hit later than normal, waking from killing Allison for the hundredth time. It was a surprise too, there hadn’t been very many intense nightmares but tonight was a night were Stiles went to bed alone.

This one felt _real_ , it had to be. He still could feel the heat from her blood on his hands, feel it seeping through his pants. And his throat? Scott had slashed at him this time, he felt that too.

When he woke up, bolting up straight in bed, Stiles’ hands flew to his neck; grasping at it where he _knew_ it was open. He was dripping with sweat, relieved to find his throat free of injury but he was shaking from the memory. He reached out blindly for his phone, unlocking it with a trembling hand and calling Derek.

“Hello?” Answered on the other line; 2 A.M. and Derek was already up and alert. “Stiles?”

“D-De-Derek…”

“I’ll be right there, you’re okay Stiles. Stay on the phone. Two minutes okay? Stiles?” Unable to answer, Stiles inhaled a shaky breath. “Good, breath. Great. Just focus on my voice, focus on me. Take another breath in, close your eye if you can.” Derek understood the fear and danger that could come from the aftermath of a terrifying nightmare, closing your eyes after sometimes made things worse, the images from the dream flashing before you all over again. “Count in for 5, Stiles. Out for 5. Count and breath, I’m almost there.”

Stiles tries, he really does, but the pain in his chest is just getting worse and it’s starting to feel tighter. It’s making him feel even more panicked; the dream and waking up alone and feeling the guilt so strongly now, like its fresh again.

Another minute passes and Derek’s throwing open the window and climbing into the room. Stiles turns to him with tear rimmed eyes and tumbling out of bed toward the man. Derek has his arms around Stiles as he sees him about to collapse, easing them both to the ground. He tightens his hold around Stiles’ trembling body, the boy fisting his hand in his shirt gripping it like a life line. Derek rubs circles on his back, whispering in his ear in an effort to calm him.

“Shh, you’re okay. I’ve got you, just breath, listen to my heart beat and breath for me Stiles. There you go; I’ve got you, Stiles. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”

30 minutes pass, they stay on the floor, Derek leaning back against Stiles’ bed with his arms still firmly wrapped around the scrawny body he’d pull into his lap, head tucked under his chin.

Derek’s okay like that though, he like the feeling of being needed, of being the one to calm and sooth the boy he’s holding protectively, likes the feeling of the extra weight of Stiles’ lean body pressed against his chest. He’s not sure when that happened exactly, but he knows it’s been a long time now; a long time since he’s looked at Stiles and no longer saw that annoying human that hung out with the new wolf.

A few more shaky breathes and Stiles seems okay, at least enough to speak, though he doesn’t move from Derek’s lap. “Sorry.” He whispers, eyes feeling very heavy.

“Why?”

“I’ve been good.”

Derek sighs, Pushing Stiles’ back just a little to look him in the eye. “You don’t apologize for things like this, okay? You’re allowed to have a bad night and I told you to call me. Pack helps pack Stiles. Okay?” Stiles nodded. “Good. Besides, you held me up in 8 feet of water for over 2 hours, I sort of owe you.”

“It was only 7 feet.” Stiles remarked quietly with a small smile. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Okay.” Derek says, rolling his eyes and making more of an effort to push Stiles off his lap. “Now, you get no sympathy.” He tells him as he pulls himself from the floor.

Stiles pouts up at him. “What? Awe, come on. If I’m teasing that must mean I’m better, which equals good. Wait,” Stiles calls in a sort panic as he sees Derek approach the window. He scrambles up to his feet, running his hand through his hair. Derek turns, giving him a questioning looks.

“Um, so…Dad’s on night shift.” Stiles tells him, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s always worse, you know, when he’s not here.”

“Yeah?” Derek turns his back to the window, watching, waiting for Stiles to continue. _Hoping_ he’ll continue. God, he’s actually _hoping_ Stiles will continue rambling like an idiot; what’s wrong with him.

Stiles nods, his eyes not meeting Derek’s. “Yeah. It’s something I always seem to be aware of; even right now, out of a nightmare. My eyes snap open and my first thought is ‘Dad’s not here. I’m alone’, and with no one to help bring me down it just sort of spirals. But I’ve been okay…relatively at least.”

“Relatively.” Derek echo’s, moving back into the room.

“Better than before, I guess. Getting more sleep, no nightmares. Well, _some_ nightmares but…you’d show up and help me.”

“But this time?”

Stiles shook his head, a shiver running up his spine. “I woke up and _swore_ I could still feel the blood…Allison’s… _Mine._ It felt so real. You were there but…you just watched, eyes cold.” Derek’s brow furrowed, he stepped up to Stiles, placing his hands on his arms. “I know, stupid. But it was like totally being cut off, alone. And Scott he…was…he was furious, told me there was no hope for me, that I was lost. He didn’t even apologize before he…” Tears gather in Stiles’ eyes thinking about his best friend and how he looked at him. “He’s actually looked at me like that before. That’s what made is so real.”

Derek’s hand slid up Stiles’ arm, brushing past his neck as it found its way to the side of his face, his thumb rubbing gently under his eye wiping away a tear. “How did he look at you?”

“Like I was a monster.” Derek tenses, his nostrils flaring. “He hasn’t…in a long time. I swear. But he did. He tried to hide it, knew it…that it wasn’t _me_ , that is was that _thing_ when it managed to split away on its own. But it had my face, a shadow of me killed Allison. And it smiled. I get it. I share a face with the thing that killed the girl my best friend was in love with. I don’t blame him.” Stiles closes his eyes, leaning into the hand still resting against his cheek unconsciously. His voice was quiet and broke, rough with tears he was holding back. “Tonight, in the dream…it was like he was at a loss, like he didn’t know if I was me or _him_ …he was angry and sad and scared. So…he slashed my throat. And then I woke up.” Without thought or hesitation, Derek pulled Stiles against his chest wrapping his arms around him. Stiles’ hands clutched at the back of Derek’s shirt, burying his face in the man’s shoulder. “I woke up,” Stiles sobbed quietly into Derek’s neck. “and I could feel my throat ripped out and bleeding. Scott, he just…”

“He didn’t Stiles, it wasn’t real.” Derek tries to sooth Stiles again as the smell of panic beings to fill the room again. “You’re here, you’re okay. Scott would never do anything like that, I’d never just stand by and let it happen either. I’d never let anything happen, not again. Not if I can do something.” Stiles’ whole body began to shake against Derek, his breathing hitched and erratic. “Stiles, come on. Focus, breath. Please, Stiles.” Derek pleaded to him, desperate to pull him back from his panic attack.  “You’re safe, you’re okay.” Derek’s whispered, his own heart rate rising in fear for Stiles. He settled back down onto the bed turning to cradle his face in his hands. “Please, Stiles.” Derek’s eyes dart over the boy’s face, concern etched in his features. “You’re okay, nothing’s going to hurt you, I promise.” Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his teeth as he gripped Derek’s shoulder, shaking his head. “Stiles.”

He wasn’t calming, he couldn’t get a handle on his thoughts enough to think how he needed to calm his breathing. When he tried to count, he lost his way at three; he couldn’t find Derek’s heart beat to anchor himself. The words being said to him were muffled and tinny and he couldn’t really make them out. His vision was going black around the edges and he felt numb everywhere. It was a quick decision, but in seconds Derek was shifting; black coat spreading across his body. He whined and whimpered, still pleading with Stiles. He pressed his nose to the panicked boy’s cheek, burying his muzzle in the crook of his neck, nuzzling in close. Stiles’ fingers found their way through Derek’s sleek coat; the wolf moaned deep within his chest, pressing himself closer to Stiles.

Stiles inhaled sharply, gasping for air as his lungs seemed to remember how to work. “Fuck.” He gasps, his voice cracking and shaking. He turned to bury his face in the fur of Derek’s neck. Derek whimpered in response, rubbing his muzzle against the back of Stiles’ head. “I’m pathetic.” He whispered, the wolf pulling back with a warning growl nipping his cheek. “Sorry.” Derek huffs, sliding down to lay against Stiles with his head in his lap.

“You don’t seem to mind me either way anymore. That’s kind of…nice. I like it.” He tells the wolf with a shrug, running his fingers through the thick coat. Stiles laid back across his bed, his legs hanging over the edge. He closed his eyes, still focusing on his breathing as he kept his hand in Derek’s fur. The wolf stretched his head up to rest it on the boy’s stomach. “I like when you’re here. Everything feels safer.” Stiles sighs, feeling himself drifting.

\-----

Loud clapping thunder echoed through the room, startling Stiles awake. He shot up with a yell, throwing Derek off him from the sudden movement. The wolf was back at his side in seconds, nose pressing against his cheek.

Stiles leaned into the comforting touch, dragging a hand down his face. “Sorry, you were probably sleeping all comfy.” He curled his arm around Derek, hugging him close. “I forgot you were here.” Derek whined, licking Stiles’ cheek. “It wasn’t a nightmare, promise. Just didn’t expect the thunder, I think I was working on being awake so it came through louder.” Derek’s ears dropped. “Don’t believe me, do you? Rude. No, it was actually sort of a great dream.” Stiles smiled, looking at Derek. The wolf blinked at him, tilting his head curiously. Stiles’ cheeks started to flush. “Uhm.” Stiles cleared his throat, shifting under the wolf’s weight. “Anyway, so looks like it’s raining. You can stay, if you want. Hang out for a while.” Derek knocked Stiles’ shoulder with his head. “Is that wolf for yes?” Derek grunted in response, chewing on the boy’s fingers when they came close to his mouth. Stiles laughed lightly, nudging the wolf. “You’re so weird like this, but in a good way.” Stiles paused for a moment, biting his lower lip. “You think…you think you’d want to still hang out with me…on two legs?” Derek gave him a curious look, making Stiles blush and fell self-conscious. “The wolf form is cool you know, awesome. Great for naps and cuddling; yes, you cuddle and no, I’m not going to make fun of you for that. But, the conversation is a little one-sided, you know? I mean I can sort of figure out what you’d say, you’re surprisingly expressing like this, or maybe I just know you better than I thought.”

Derek huffed, slamming his head into Stiles’ shoulder before jumping off the bed and grabbing his discarded clothes from the floor and stepping out of the room to shift back.

“I wasn’t entirely done talking, rude wolf!” Stiles calls to Derek.

“You weren’t making much of a point.” Derek said, reentering the room dress in his dark green Henley and deep blue jeans. “You were sort of just rambling, you tend to do that more when there’s no one to interrupt you I’ve noticed.”

“Yet, you’ve shifted into a wolf several times therefore taking away your ability to interrupt the rambling.”

Derek sat on Stiles’ bed with his back against the headboard. “You seem to let yourself talk through things that are more important that way. You get the rambling out and with no one to cut in, you find your way to what you need to say. At least a little.”

Stiles climbed up the bed to sit beside Derek, shoulder to shoulder in his narrowing full size bed. “I guess I do. I’ve never told anyone about my nightmares, not in so much detail at least. I’ve tried or at least _thought_ about trying but I choke on the words. Except with you.”

“Why me?”

Stiles shrugs, picking at the hem of his shirt. “I guess maybe because you don’t expect anything from me, except the normal rambling, spastic behavior. I think…I think that makes it easier. You don’t expect me to talk it out or whatever like everyone else; you don’t look at me like I’m some fragile broken thing, even after you’ve witnessed me being just that. Fragile, broken…you just…You’re here and…and I don’t know, I feel…better? Okay? I don’t know.” Stiles says, shaking his head.

Derek reached out for Stiles’ fidgeting hand, taking it in his and lacing their fingers together. Stiles’ looks at Derek in surprise. “It’s not easy to allow yourself to let your guard down, to feel comfortable. After…After the fire, I didn’t think I could trust anyone, didn’t think anyone should trust me. It was hard, even being around Laura but leaving her seemed worse. So I stayed. Nothing felt right though; she was my sister but I couldn’t bear to look at her or tell her the truth.”

Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand as his words trailed off. “You felt alone.”

Derek nodded. “For years.” He told him, smiling softly before continuing. “Until some skinny, pale-skinned, flailing kid stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. A recklessly brave kid who boarders on moronic sometimes.” Stiles felt his face heat up when Derek turned to look him in the eye. “For someone who seemed to want nothing to do with me, you ended up at my side an awful lot. I couldn’t seem to shake you and with you came Scott and eventually Lydia and Kira, Malia. All of a sudden, one day I didn’t feel so alone. And it started with you crashing into my life. Something just sort of started turning from that moment. You’re one of the few people in the world I can count on…lean on. You never look for anything from me, never want anything.”

Stiles swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. “Wh-why would I?”

“People use people for their own gain.”

“I wouldn’t.” Stiles said softly, looking down at their linked hands. “I’m not Katie.” He whispered.

“I know.” Derek tells him, running his thumb on the back of his hand.

“I-I felt bad enough…using you like-”

“You’ve never used me, Stiles.”

“Yeah, but when I-”

“Stiles.” Derek lifted his other hand, placing it on Stiles’ cheek, gently tilting his head back up. “You have never _once_ used me in any way. That night at the store, _I_ found _you_. _I_ did what _I_ thought might help. All those other nights, I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure I was close and could help if I needed to. Tonight, you called me. I _told_ you to call me if you needed something; when I said anything, I meant it. You’ve never take more than I was willing to give, and even then you’re reluctant to take that.”

“But, Kate-”

“ _You_ are _not_ Kate. You _just_ said that yourself, but you have it in your head now that maybe you are. You’re _not_ , Stiles.” Derek told him firmly, his voice hard. “Kate took advantage of a kid. You calling me in the middle of the night because your nightmare threw you into a panic attack is _not_ taking advantage of anything, do you understand me?” Stiles nodded, his gaze falling from Derek’s. “Stiles, look at me. Please.” The boy closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to looking into Derek’s hazel green stare. “You’re…you’re _important_ to me.” Derek told him, his heart racing. “Anything you need, anything you want, I’m here.” Stiles nodded slowly taking a shaky breath in Derek’s pause. “However you want me,” He tells him, eyes flicking to his lips then back up. “I’m here.”

Stiles’ pulse jumps, his mouth suddenly dry; all thoughts gone. The corner of Derek’s mouth ticked up, tilting Stiles’ head back he leaned in slowly, his eyes searching his pale face for a moment; looking for protest or hesitation but Stiles didn’t pull back. Hope and affection filled the air around them, a little more concentration and Derek could smell lust and desire at the edges. He stroked Stiles’ cheek with his thumb, tugging him forward until their lips brushed against each other. A soft kiss, a test to see where the boy stood; how he might feel. A bold move for Derek, opening himself up for rejection and disappointment; his own heart felt as if it stopped beating, suddenly dreading that he was reading everything about Stiles wrong. It was short, chaste but exhilaration all the same for the wolf. His eyes stayed closed as he pulled away, not brave enough to look at Stiles quite yet, but even as he began to move back he was being pulled forward by a long-fingered hand on the back of his neck.

“Oh no you don’t, Sourwolf.” Stiles said when he found his voice again. He pulled the wolf back to him, pressing their lip together with a hungry sort of passion.

Derek’s lips parted, his tongue sweeping over Stiles’ bottom lip; the response gave him access to taste Stiles’ mouth, eliciting a moan from the boy. The wolf grinned against an eager mouth, Stiles untangled their hands and swung himself over, settling into Derek’s lap with his arm wrapped around his neck. His hand moved from his neck into his hair where he held on firmly almost pulling at the strands. Derek’s arms snaked around the slender form in front of him, on hand pressed flat against Stiles’ back between his shoulder blades. Stiles rocked his hips, grinding slightly against Derek, his head slowly dropping back feeling the hardness beneath him. Derek’s mouth latched onto Stiles’ neck like a magnetic pull. Stiles gripped onto Derek, his hand fisting in the wolf’s hair, a soft moan passing his lips.

“Derek.” Stiles said, the name coming out in a single breath.

Derek licked at the marks he’d made on Stiles’ neck. “Tell me what you want, Stiles.”

Stiles tipped his head to the side, his eyes fluttering closed. “I…I…” He stuttered, unable to pull his thoughts together.

Derek traced his jawline with the tip of his nose, up to Stiles’ ear. He nipped at his earlobe, pressing his lips to the soft tender skin behind it, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. “Stiles.” He whispered in his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

There was a smirk on his face, Stiles could hear it in the teasing tone he took as he whispered. ‘ _Fucker_.’He thought, inhaling sharply as he felt Derek’s teeth bit down on his collar bone where it was peeking out from his shirt. “Fuck.” He breathed out, rutting against Derek. “Fuck, everything. All of it.” Stiles sat back, holding Derek’s head between his hands. The wolf’s eye flashed a moment before going back to the kaleidoscope of greens and ambers.

Derek’s hands grip Stiles’ thigh, in one fluid motion he flips him on his back with his head at the opposite side of the bed. He moved to hover over him for a moment, gazing down into a pair of honey brown eyes. Derek growls lowly in his throat, pushing and pulling at the hem of Stiles’ gray cotton shirt until it’s off. He drags his mouth across his collar bone, leaving a trail of reddening flesh as he goes. He slid down the slim figure beneath him, exploring it with his mouth; licking, kissing, biting each spot as he went chasing the moles that dusked across his skin. Stiles arched up into the touch, whining softly, feeling a deep ache set is. He was never good with patience, now was no different.

“Derek.” Stiles moaned in protest. “Cut it out.”

“Shh.” Derek took the elastic waist band of Stiles’ boxers, peeking from the top of his pajama bottoms, between his teeth pulling it back and letting it snap against his him. He let out a yelp in surprise. “Tell me Stiles.” Derek said, sitting up between Stiles’ legs, his fingers hooked in the waist of his pants and boxers. He pulled gently on the fabric, running his fingers back and forth inside the hem, his knuckles brushing against bare skin. “What. Do. You want?”

Stiles stared into the forest that was Derek’s eyes, nervousness now replaced with an unyielding want and desire. When he spoke, his voice didn’t waiver, his heart beat was steady. He knew what he wanted, he’s _known_ what he’s wanted. His eyes softened, love and affection showing alongside his lust for the man sitting in front of him.

“You.” He said. “Only you. _Always_ you. All of you, Derek Hale.”

“You trust me?” Derek asked, a shadow of worry flickering in the back of his mind.

“Always.”

A slow smile spread across Derek’s face, tugging at Stiles’ sweatpants; Stiles lifted himself up allowing Derek to pull the material covering his leg off. The wolf’s eyes flashed again, dragging his hands down the boy’s side; blunt finger tips streaking across the pale flesh. Derek bent lower, pressing his lips against the side of Stiles’ knee before following a trail of freckles up the inside of his thigh. Stiles bit his lower lip, his fingers bunching in his sheets as Derek lowered himself down to meet the tip of his cock. He dragged the tip of his nose up the shaft, eliciting a gasp from the boy, enticing the wolf and pulling him forward.

Derek lapped at the precum leaking from the tip, Stiles’ hips jerking up as he swirled his tongue around the head.

“Fuck.” Stiles moaned out, arching off the bed.

Derek reach forward, placing a firm hand on Stiles’ abdomen to keep him from moving too much. He flicked his tongue over the tip again. “Shh, just be patient.” He told him with a wicked smirk.

“Der,” Stiles started, already breathless. “You’re telling a hormonal 17-year-old _boy_ who has his dick out getting literally cock teased by the guy who has been the center of all his wet dreams for over a year to have _patience._ Doesn’t work so well for the _boy_.”

Derek sat up, staring down at Stiles with big eyes. “Over a year?” He questioned.

“Shit. I didn’t mean…I mean, yeah but you weren’t…ugh. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Okay, this is just awkward now. Maybe we shouldn’t-” Stiles moved to push himself up, but Derek held him in place. “Oh.” Stiles said. “Wait, so…not…awkward?” Derek starts to slowly stroke his hard, throbbing cock. “I-is that, shit…is that my answer? C-cause that’s, mmm…that’s a good an-answer.”

Derek held Stiles’ gaze as he lowered himself back down again, wrapping his mouth around Stiles. His hips buck up and he let out a sharp gasp as Derek takes his full length into his mouth, humming at the taste of the boy.

“Holy _fuck_.” Stiles groaned, his gripping at the sheets. “Shit.” He exhaled shakenly. “Derek, I-I won’t – _fuck!”_ Stiles rolled his hips, meeting Derek’s steady rhythm. “I’m not… _god…_ going to last.” He tells him on breathless moans.

This seems to spur Derek on further, increasing his pace, pulling off Stiles with a pop to drag his tongue along the slit before licking up his full length and taking him into his mouth again, hollowing his cheeks in an effort to make Stiles cum.

“ _Fuck!”_ Stiles mewls, his breath coming out in heavy pants as he bucks up and moves with the sensation building within.

Derek gently presses a finger against Stiles’ entrance, inserting a digit when his body seems willing to accept it. Stiles calls out, words stung together in an incoherent sentence. Derek pushes in farther, crooking his finger to find just the right spot.

“Shit- _fucking_ -fuck-Christ!”

Derek growls deep, the vibrations moving through his throat farther stimulations the cock he’s wrapped around.

“Shit-shit. _Der_ -fuck-god! Derek! _Fuck_!”

Derek bobs up and down on Stiles’ cock, his finger hitting his prostate and in seconds Stiles’ whole body is practically levitating off his bed; noises coming out of his mouth like nothing he’d ever made before. “I’m-I’m..” He tries to warn Derek but he can feel himself pushing at the back of the wolf’s throat and there’s just too much and he can’t speak English; words are unable to come to him.

Derek adds a second finger and almost instantly he finds himself rewarded.

Stiles feels like he’s completely exploded, totally ripped apart, never to be the same again. And Derek’s just milking him, riding out the spasms that are trembling through his body as he comes down from his orgasm. When he’s stratified that Stiles’ is completely done, Derek pulls his fingers from inside Stiles carefully and lets his spent cock slip from his lips, licking the underside and cleaning off the tip before crawling back up Stiles’ flush body.

When he’s near enough, Stiles grabs Derek by his shirt and pulls him into a lazy kiss, feeling only a little weird about being turned-on by the taste of his own cum inside the wolf’s mouth. He lets himself melt into the bed, closing his eyes as he comes down from what feels like the greatest high he’ll ever experience. Derek, content with littering him with soft, butterfly kisses along his neck, over his shoulder, nipping playfully at his ear and along his jaw.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet for this long.” Derek murmurs into his shoulder with a smirk.

“Congratulations.” Stiles told him in a daze. “You’ve fucked the ability to speak right out of me.

Derek laughed, rolling onto his back, pulling Stiles against him. The boy turned slightly, resting his head on the wolf’s chest. “No one fucked anyone.”

“Close enough.” Stiles argued. “Dude-”

“I just had your dick in my mouth for close to 15 minutes while you screamed my name.” Derek cut in, pressing his nose into Stiles’ matted, sweaty hair. “Let’s move past _dude,_ huh?”

“Okay, you might have a point. No more dude.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles was silent for all of 15 seconds. “Snuggle bunny?” Derek sighed. “No? Maybe…honey bear. OH! Honey _Der_ , get it?!”

“Stiles.” The wolf grumbled.

“Buttercup?”

“Stiles.”

“Sugar-lips?”

“Stiles.”

“Sexy McGrowly Frowny Face!”

“Oh my god.” He groaned.

“Yup. That’s it. That’s the one, where’s my phone, I’m updating your contact name right now.”

Stiles shifted off Derek, moving to reach out for his phone. Derek grabbed him by the waist, throwing him back to the bed with a soft yelp from Stiles. He held him by the wrist, pinning them above his head as he hovered over him.

“Soooo…no nicknames?” Derek hummed, leaning in to press his lips to Stiles’ neck. He tilted his head to the side, giving the wolf better access. “Fine, but I’ll still be calling you Sourwolf. I’ve earned the right. Speaking of earning…You ah, you wanna drop those pants their big guy? You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Derek’s lips move over his skin as he speaks. “We’re not having sex Stiles.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open. “And what exactly was that that just happened?”

“Not sex.” Derek grumbled simply, dragging his mouth over Stiles’ shoulder and across his collar bone.

“Okay…” He says slowly, twisting his wrist out of Derek’s hold with no luck. “I guess _technically_ no, but it was a _form_ of sex; they teach you that in health class. I mean, dude-” Derek growled, biting Stiles’ shoulder in warning. “Fuck! Ow, sorry! No more ‘dude’. I forgot, old habits and all. _Anyway_ …Great now I forgot my point. _Something_ about oral sex? Whatever, least you could do is let me reciprocate.”

“Nope.”

“But, you’ve got to be like, I don’t know…cramped?”

Derek’s deep laugh vibrates through Stiles’ body. “Cramped?” He asked, running his nose along his jawline.

Stiles shifts a little, a shiver running through his spine. “I don’t know, Derek! Shouldn’t this be like give and take? I don’t want to leave you hanging.”

“I’m fine.” He tells him softly into the shell of his ear.

“You’re sexually frustrated and if you just let me-”

“Nope.”

“Ugh! Why?” Stiles asks with a pout. “D-do you not want me to….”

Derek leans back, releasing Stiles’ wrist as he shifts his weight to one side, propping himself up on his elbow. He reaches up to cup Stiles’ cheek, caressing the soft flushed skin. “I do, but not yet.”

“Why?” Stiles asks quietly, unable to help but feel like he’s being rejected.

“For one, you only want to because it’s what you think is _supposed_ to happen.” Stiles opened his mouth to protest, Derek moved his other hand up to cover his mouth before he could even speak. “Two, you’re not 18 yet and your dad is the _Sheriff_. The pack will be able to tell right away and _Scott_ has a big mouth. This…well this was bad enough but it’ll be easier to cover. If I let you do _anything_ my control goes out that window. I won’t be able to keep from going farther; from claiming you as _mine_.”

“Yours?” Stiles whispered, swallowing thickly.

“Mine.” Derek tells him with a nod. “And believe me I want to, this already showed a break in my control but…I just…I needed _something_. And you seemed like…” Derek froze, realization hitting. Maybe he jumped too soon. It could have been the heat of the moment, maybe Stiles wasn’t ready. Did he push himself on him? Did he not feel like he could throw him off or tell him no? Did he intimidate him?

“Hey.” Stiles called to him as he pulled back. “Stop. I can see what you’re doing, just stop okay?” Stiles curled his had around Derek’s neck, pulling him down to him and bringing their lips together. “You’re over thinking. That’s my job.” He told him with a soft smile.

“But-”

“But nothing. You’re thinking what? I didn’t want this? I mean I kind of hoped there’d be a little back and forth but no, Derek. I wanted this, _trust me_ , I have _wanted_ this. I’ve wanted something, _anything_ to happen here. I kept thinking I was reading too much into things, maybe hoping too much. How could a guy like you want a skinny thing like me? But then you’re all…I don’t even know; _amazing_. And you just…you wanted me.”

“I didn’t say want. I _needed_ , Stiles. Needed you.”

Stiles flushed. “You can…I mean I…yeah. I need you to. I just, I didn’t think you did but I want…I was serious before Der. I want _you_. So…it’s okay, I like…give consent or whatever.”

Derek smiled, brushing his lips to Stiles’. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” He gives Stiles a kiss on his cheek. “For your 18thbirthday.” He grins, rolling off the bed with a laugh as Stiles lets out a squawk in protest. He bends down to grab a pair of discarded jeans from the floor and throws them at Stiles. “Get dressed, I’m hungry.”

Stiles grumbles, pulling the pants on. “Thought you already ate.” He says sourly.

“Funny!” Derek calls from down the hall.

Stiles grabs a clean shirt from his draw, following Derek to the open bathroom. “What are you doing?” He asks with a raised eyebrow at Derek swishing mouthwash around.

Derek spits into the sink, wiping his face dry. “As much as I love the lingering taste you leave in my mouth, I don’t think cum goes with a burger.” Derek tells him casually, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he passes him standing in the door way gapping at the wolf. “Come on.” Derek takes Stiles’ hand, lacing their fingers together.

Stiles stumbles a little as he follows Derek. “I just…wow. I don’t thing I even know what to do with you.”

“Good thing you have time to come up with something. And seeing how you have 3 whole months to figure it out, I expect it to be _mind-blowing_.”

“Are you…did you…are you joking about out sex life? Sorry, let me rephrase that.” Derek pulls Stiles out the door, grabbing the keys to the Jeep as he passes the small table at the door. “Are you joking _period_?”

Derek leads Stiles to the passenger side, opening the door for him. “You’re the only one aloud to joke?”

Stiles’ eyes watch him as he rounds the front of the Jeep, getting in behind the wheel. “Yeah, because I’m the _funny_ one.”

Derek rolls his eyes, starting the Jeep and backing out. “Just cause you laugh at your own jokes, doesn’t mean you’re funny.”

“God, you go from sweet, to horny, to joking, then back to rude…yet somehow still sweet because you’re clearly taking me out on a date right now. So many ranges of Derek today.” Stiles laughs to himself.

“See, right there. That’s not really all that funny but you clearly think it’s hilarious.”

“You’re really going to gloss over the bit where I said you’re taking me on a date? In public Derek, where people will see.”

Derek shoots Stiles a glance. “Is this the part where you talk down about yourself, then I have to tell you how ridiculous you’re being, then you ask why I’d ever even look at you and I say something like ‘you’re the most incredible person to have ever stumbled into my life’? Is that were this is headed?”

Stiles shrugged, glancing out the window. “Well…not _now_.” He said with a pout.

Derek turns the Jeep off the road, pulling off to the side and turning to look at Stiles. “Do you know what you are?”

“Uhm…well, that’s kind of a vague question…” Stiles scrunches his brow, looking at Derek in confusion.

“To _me_ , Stiles. Do you know what you are to _me_?” Stiles shakes his head slowly. “My anchor. And do you know what it _means_ for a werewolf, especially a _born_ werewolf, to have their anchor be a person and _not_ an emotion?”

Stiles swallows, his mouth feeling dry. “N-no.” He says quietly.

“Anchors set to emotions are weaker because your emotions can change so rapidly; a high stress situation can have you feeling everything all at once making it almost impossible to pin one down to draw strength from or to control yourself. A werewolf can only be anchored to another person when they’ve become strong enough to open themselves up to another. There is no choosing it, it happens on its own and without warning. There has to be unfathomable trust in this person, respect…desire.” He says softly after a pause.

“And…and I…you…I’ve….done…that?” Stiles asks, voice cracking.

Derek nods, a warm, fond, smile lighting up his face. He reached out to cupped the side of Stiles’ face. “You’ve done that, Stiles. I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trust you. I’ve never looked at anyone the way I look at you. The room literally brightens for me when you walk in. The only thing more important than pack to a werewolf, is their anchor when they’ve found their _true_ anchor. I’ll only ever have one, Stiles.”

“But Scott-”

“It’s slightly different for him. Being bitten he can find another physical anchor, also he’s a True Alpha. He lost Allison but he has Kira and…honestly his mom is more his anchor than anyone else. Your dad, you. Scotts true anchor is family. Being bitten, there’s a bit of a gray area there for him.”

Stiles nods in understanding. “But you, no gray area?”

“No gray area.”

“Just one anchor.”

“Just one.”

“And…that’s me?” Stiles asks slowly.

Derek nods. “You.”

Stiles is quiet for a moment, considering this. Derek sits, letting him process. “But… _why_?” He questions.

Derek laughs, shaking his head. “There was never going to be anyone else, Stiles.”

“ _Why_?” Stiles asks again, almost pleading.

“Because, no one else has ever cared enough. Enough to be willing to cut off my arm to safe my life, enough to confront a dangerous hunter about his crazy sister, enough to just _be_ there when I was force to kill my own beta. You bite back at every sly comment Peter throws out, you held my head above water, you came back for me instead of going after Scott when your dad was missing. Even though I was the one that screwed up, being with Jennifer. You know what I’ve been through, you’ve seen how I carry the weight. When almost everyone I know has written me off, you’re still here.”

“But…I’m not really-”

“Stiles, you’re the most incredible person to have ever stumbled into my life.”

The corners of Stiles’ mouth twitch up. “You said it.”

Derek smiles, nodding. “I did.”

“Who knew Derek Hale could be such a sap.”

Derek runs a finger under Stiles’ eye. “I’m not the one crying.” He says in a smug tone, still somehow sounding affectionate.

Stiles huffs out a laugh, bringing a hand up to pull Derek forward until their forehead at together. “Shut up. You just…you unveiled every thought you’ve ever kept to yourself to me _and_ basically told me I’m your one and only.”

Derek brushes his lips against Stiles’. “You are. I am 100%, irrevocably in love with _you_ , Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles grins. “You even pronounced it right, I can barely pronounce it right.”

“Thought that might impress you.”

Stiles nods eagerly, pulling Derek to him pressing their lips together; his hand curls around the back of Derek’s neck, a soft moan bubbling up muted by Derek’s mouth as he sweeps his tongue inside.

Stiles pulls back a little breathless, eyes closed. “I’m like…97% sure I _might_ be in love with you.” Derek growls, nipping at his lower lip. “Ow! Hey, okay. Maybe like…98.5?” Another growl echo’s inside the cab of the Jeep as he bit at Stiles’ jaw. Stiles laughs, holding Derek’s face in both hands. “Fine, so I might be 100% completely gone on you.”

A low, please rumble comes from within Derek, a sound Stiles would call a purr. He pulled Stiles forward for another long, lingering kiss.

Time seemed to pass unnoticed for the two, their hands pushing through each other’s hair, gripping and pulling, fists bunching in their cotton shirts. They don’t see the flashing blue and red lights when Stiles is half climbing into Derek’s lap. They don’t even hear the first tap on the window, proving Derek’s earlier point about his control. Stiles is trying to maneuver himself over the gear shift when the second, sharp, knock on the driver side window startles him. He pulls back from Derek, shielding his eyes from the blinding light shining in his face. Derek winces at the light, turning his head away as he rolls down the window.

A heavy sigh comes from the man standing outside the car. “You know,” The man starts, clearing his throat as he lowers his light. “Most people at least find an empty lot or go to the overlook in the Preserve. But the Sheriff’s _son_ finds it acceptable to just pull over on the side of one of the most travelled roads in town.” Stiles stammers, Derek just slowly turns his head to look down at his hand. “Hale.” The man greets. “Stiles.” He says more firmly.

“H-hey dad. Wh-what’s up? How’s your, ah, your night?”

“It’s been pretty slow, until getting  3 _separate_ calls from concerned motorist telling me my sons Jeep is pulled off the side of the road. So, of course I panic, thinking something happened to you, only to come out here to find out that not only is my son _fine_ , but half in the lap of an older man.”

“To be fair…I _did_ try and tell you we needed to have a talk that one time, so…this whole ‘I’m into dude’s’ surprise is really your fault.” Derek rolls his eyes up to the roof, shaking his head.

“Stiles,” The Sheriff starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t care who you’re with, just be happy. I _do,_ however, have a _slight_ issue with the _older_ part.”

“Sir,” Derek speaks, turning to look the Sheriff in the eyes. “I have no intention of disrespecting you. I know Stiles is only 17-”

“18 in 4 months.” Stiles mumbles, his dad and Derek shooting him a look. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

“I know that I am a few years older, but I care for him deeply. I would never do anything to hurt him, I just want him to be safe and happy, and hopefully I can be a part of that. But even if not, as long as he is happy, that’s enough.”

Noah nods, a small smile crossing his face. “Me too.” He pauses, looking from Derek to Stiles. “He makes you happy?”

Stiles’ eyes slide over to Derek, his smile fond as he looks at him with adoration. He nods as he answers. “Yeah, he really does dad.”

Noah sighs. “I used to look at your mother the same way.” He rubs the back of his neck and continues. “Okay. There will be ground rules, I expect them to be followed.”

“Daaad.” Stiles whines. Derek shoot his arm out, smacking him lightly on the leg. “Ow, hey!”

“Sh. Sorry Sheriff, of course, whatever you say.”

“Kiss ass.” Stiles mumbles to quietly for his dad’s ears but gets him a narrow eyes glare from Derek.

“Right.” Noah continues. “Curfews, especially during school, will be adhered to and I have the right to change them as I seem fit based on grades and well whatever else I think requires punishment. We’ll start with that; I’ve had a long shift and I’m beat so Derek I’ll see you Sunday for dinner and we can go over everything else then. For now, get on out of here and no more roadside pit stops.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Not you, son.” Noah says to Derek with a fond smile. “I know how my son can be; Stiles, don’t make me shoot your boyfriend because _you_ got him in trouble. I actually _like_ Derek.”

“That’s just…unbelievable.” Stiles throws his hands up, shaking his head in annoyance.

“Go. Goodnight, drive safe.” Noah waves at them as he walks back to the cruiser.

“That wasn’t that bad.” Derek says after a few moments pass, the sheriff’s cruiser pulling out and driving down the road.

Stiles pouts from the passenger seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “He totally likes you better. I’m his _son._ You’re the...the…” Stiles waves his hand at Derek. “I don’t know, but he’s not supposed to _like_ you. Not yet at least…”

“Him liking me is a _good_ thing, isn’t it?”

“I mean…sure, but like…not more than me.”

Derek laughs lightly, pulling back onto the road. “Maybe I’m just irresistible to all the Stilinski’s.”

Stiles turns to Derek with a smile, reaching out to take his hand. “Yeah, you really are. Thankfully, you’re more irresistible to me then to my dad. That would just be a whole lot of awkward.” Derek lifts their entwined hands, bringing Stiles’ hand to his lips with a smile. “This is going to be one of those intense kinds of loves that everyone envies, isn’t it?”

Derek glances over to Stiles, his eyes sweeping over his face seeing him truly at ease for the first time in months. “Yeah, it is. You ready for that?” He questions with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles grins, squeezing Derek’s hand. “Bring it on, Sourwolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. Thanks for reading!


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